


Revelator Eyes

by BlueColoredDreams



Series: String Theory [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Some Plot, The Stolen Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 11:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueColoredDreams/pseuds/BlueColoredDreams
Summary: Magnus and Lucretia rush in.





	Revelator Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Direct companion/sequel to Something Stolen, Something Given (as in, a direct continuation from where it faded to black and skipped).  
> Don't look at meeeee I know I should be working on other things, but like, I had to reference SS/SG for the other magcretia oneshot (aka: Lucretia gets a service dog and catches feelings, the fic), and just went "there's... no way they didn't bone after that?" and, yep this happened.  
> Title from the Paper Kites.

He’d been blind to the way it had built up over the cycles, over the years—he’d been blind, and she’d been patient, and they both had danced around it for weeks now, leading to this. She’s been patient for almost twenty years, and he’s never waited for anything in his life; now that he knows, he can’t not act, not when the feelings are overflowing from him, spilling out of his head and into his heart and mouth.

So he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him, and he wants more—more and more, and she’d laughed at him and teased him right back and she _loves_ him too. It’s more than overwhelming. It makes his hands tremble, it makes his throat tighten and strain as he looks down at her.

She’s grinning up at him, eyes wide and dark and sparkling as she imparts the revelation on him again and again. “I love you, Magnus,” she whispers again.

He clutches at her waist, her skin hot and soft under his fingers, her shirt bunched up against his wrist. Her hand guides him back down into another kiss, her mouth hot and pliant against his own, and the softness is replaced with something sharp and needy in him, and when they pull away, he sees it mirrored in her eyes.

The tears drying on her cheeks don’t match the sudden mischievousness on her face. He brings his hand, the one not occupied with sweeping over her belly, up her chest, to her cheeks, licking his lips slowly as he tries to focus on what’s happening.

He’d confessed to Lucretia, who’d been _waiting_ for him to do it. She loves him—he loves her, loves her, wants her close. She’s sprawled out under him, kissing his chin and neck in the most wonderfully distracting way.

He thumbs over her cheeks, brushing away the last remnants of her tears and she grabs his hands as she leans up.

His head is still spinning, his face hot from telling her, from kissing her, from where her body presses to his. He decides not to think too much about it, just to focus on her and the way they’ve fallen in alignment.

She’s kissing him again, taking the lead and he gladly follows. He keeps one hand on her jaw, unable to keep from guiding her back to his mouth each time she pulls away. Her tongue is hot in his mouth and he finds she makes the softest, sweetest noise when he runs his tongue against the roof of her mouth. His other hand cups over her chest, weighing her breast in his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles against her.

She makes a ragged noise in his mouth, and he smiles against her lips. He’s soon to echo her groan as her thighs part under him, his weight shifting as she lifts her hips to his, knees bracketing his waist. He squeezes her gently and she whines, shivering against him.

“Luce, I—” he stammers. “Maybe, this is... Later, maybe we should… later?”

“You said later was now,” she teases, taking the chance to drop her hands and fist his shirt on her fingers.  She lifts the fabric and he sheds it obediently.

Her nails are short, blunt against his skin. He jerks against her, and she rolls up into him.

He grips her shirt and tugs it up and she lifts her hands off of his back and undoes her bra and tosses it aside.

He laughs, nosing her throat. “I don’t get the honors?”

“No, it would take you too long,” she murmurs, sticking her tongue out at him. Her voice is delightfully hoarse, and it cracks when he cups her in his palms. He massages her in slow circles, peeking up to watch her eyes fall shut as her lips part.

He thumbs over the wide circle of her areolas, tightening the movement to center against her nipples. Her voice sounds like it’s been punched from her throat, sharp and sudden. She rocks into him, thighs tight against his hips as her shoulders press into her sheets as she lifts her chest towards him.

He can taste the beading of sweat starting to rise on her skin as he kisses down her neck to her sternum. Her heart is loud against his ear and he stops to just listen.

“Magnus?”

He nuzzles against her and she squirms, a high giggle echoing against his ear as his sideburns tickle her. He peppers the flat of her sternum with kisses, then turns his head to kiss over the swell of her breast, dragging his fingers down her ribs.

She starts and giggles nervously, stomach jumping against his chest.

He grins up at her, and she looks down at him, shaking her head.

“Don’t you even think about it,” she whispers, her stern words not quite matching the gentleness in the way she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Noted,” Magnus laughs. He slips his hand down to rest against her hip, amused at how ticklish she is. Her giggles die down into a soft whine as he drops his lips back to her nipple, sucking the flesh between his lips as it hardens.

He could take it slower, he _could_ , but she doesn’t want him to—each time he pauses or slows, she leads him back into another kiss, murmuring soft ‘yes, it’s fine’s at him each time he stops kissing her to look up.

 Her hips rock up against his stomach, and she drops her hand to his on her hip. She guides him across her stomach, then down under the hem of her sleep shorts, lacing their fingers together as she presses his fingers between her thighs.

He groans against her breast, extending his middle finger to dip between her lips. Her moan reverberates against his ear as he just runs his finger from her entrance to her hood then back down, a slow circling stroke. She’s wet already and his breath is shuddering with each stroke; she’s so soft and warm against his hand, hair tickling his palm as he moves.

He moves up, kissing her neck and jaw and chin, admiring the slackness of her mouth as she gasps with each rock against his finger. Her eyes are wide and glazed, but they screw shut with a whine as he circles his finger over her clit. Her heel digs against the back of his thigh and he groans. He feels like he’s swallowing fire, stomach tight and hot.

He slides his finger down to press into her, slipping in knuckle deep and easy. He swallows her moan with a kiss, rubbing into her.

Her thighs tighten on his hips and her hand leaves his wrist to press up against his chest. Her thumb rolls against a nipple as she grips his hair with her other and he groans into her mouth, drawing his finger back to thrust deep. She opens up to him, then clenches to beckon him in and he rubs into her walls, finger slick from her. She forgets trying to tease him back, fingers curling over his heart.

She trembles and rocks into him. “Magnus, I—” she gasps, voice small and broken. He can feel her straining, feel her squirming to hold herself back, feel the tightening of her thighs and the curl of her toes.

He draws back, pets over her with two fingers now, each parting over her clit. She moans, low and shuddery, then cries out when he slips both fingers into her. She tightens around him, body curling into his hand as he rubs a spot in her that has her rocking into his hand, clit brushing the heel of his palm, again and again and she turns her head, teeth grit as she whimpers.

“I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry,” he mumbles into her ear, and her fingers tighten into his hair, nails scraping his scalp and she winds her other arm around his neck, gasping as she tightens around his fingers. Her hips work into him, hard and fast as she grows slicker against him. She pants hard, body slowing and slacking against him as her orgasm fades.

“Magnus,” she mumbles, guiding him into a lazy kiss, hips rolling slowly against his hand. He thrusts his fingers into her movements, keeping it slow and deep to match the way she moves against him. The sound of her slick skin and his thrusts is muffled by her clothes, and he almost regrets not stripping her down first.

He can’t stop the broken moan that spills from him as her hand finds him through his pants.

“Luce,” he pants, “You don’t have—”

She kisses him softly, undoing his pants and inching them down. “I want to,” she murmurs. She licks her lips and he circles his fingers to make her jolt and she gasps out a thready laugh. “Play nice—”

But he just shakes his head and she laughs again, voice cracking into a moan as he hooks his fingers into her and rubs his thumb into her clit; her hands grip his hips tightly. She grinds into him, body shaking with effort. She bites down on her lip, sweat shiny on her temples and Magnus rocks his hips against her stomach.

She comes again, quick and harsh, her voice sharp against his neck. Her hands press flat against his chest and she pushes him back. He rolls off of her, panting as he takes himself into his hand, slick with her cum. She grabs his wrist and sits on his stomach.

His brain stops completely. He’d thought she was done, that that was the signal that she couldn’t take anymore, but she’s pushing his hands away from himself, pulling one up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles.

“Lucy—?”

She rises up onto her knees, teeth between her lips as she shuffles back, one hand wrapping around the base of his dick. He gasps and grabs her hips and she grins down at him, heavy lidded and lazy. Her back arches over him as she rubs herself over the head of his erection, hot and slick and her body shakes.

She sinks on him, trapping him between his stomach and her lips, and he muffles himself against her mouth. She rocks over him, slow and shaking.

“Lucy, Lucy, please,” he groans. He grabs her thigh with one hand, spreading her open against him, his other sliding up her back to draw her close.

She shifts and he feels himself press up against her entrance and she grinds against his head, letting him breech her just slightly. He drops his head to her neck, shuddering and groaning as she works herself around him, squeezing at his head without taking him further. Her knees tighten against his hips, holding him as he bucks up.

“Luc, Lucretia, let me—” he mumbles blindly, grasping her hips to lift her off of him. He’s so close, he’s so close to coming that it burns his throat, his stomach, his thighs, but he wants more of her. He wants all of her she’ll let him have, wants to fuck her, taste her, pull her to him and grind into her, slow as they kiss.

She makes a noise that sounds displeased, but he rolls them over, pressing her deep against the mattress, hands parting her thighs wide.

“Let me,” he mumbles again, kissing her knees. “In my room, give me a moment, I have— gimme a—let me take care of you right now, and I can go and grab… Lucy,” he begs, not even knowing what for.

She pets over his face and he draws her fingers into his mouth. His tongue parts between them, mimicking how he wants to use his mouth on her.

She draws her fingers away and cards them through his hair and he bends over her, kissing her collar and breasts and stomach. Her fingers tug at his hair and it raises a full body shudder through him—she’s so close to taking him apart that he has to take her apart first just to handle the feeling rushing through him.

He’s about to bury his face between her legs when someone kicks Lucretia’s door— and hard. The kick is followed by a thud of a fist and several snickers.

They both freeze, the pounding on the door followed by a thud, laughter, and the sound of something sliding across the chrome and tile floor.

“HERE’S PROTECTION, MAGNUS, YOU HORNY BASTARD. WHO’S YOUR FAVORITE TWIN?” Lup hollers through the door.

“Oh gods,” Lucretia mumbles, covering her face with her hands. Her entire body quivers with restrained laughter.

Magnus snorts, then dissolves into laughter, sitting back on his heels as Lucretia shakes her head behind her hands. 

“ALSO. SILENCING SPELLS. ARE A THING,” she continues. “BYE.”

The bed shakes as Magnus sits back, laughing so hard that Lucretia peeks out from behind her fingers and starts to giggle in earnest. 

He finds himself glad for the distraction, for the break in his fevered tension—he hadn’t realized he’d needed to pull back and take a breath. Lucretia looks like she’s had a similar moment of relaxation, the lines of tension that pulled at her muscles smoothed out as she laughs, limbs sprawling easily across the sheets as she flops her arms back against the sheets.

“D'you think they heard?” Magnus laughs, sliding off the bed to grab the condoms scattered on Lucretia’s floor.

She rolls onto her side, watching him bend down with desire written across her face. He grins at her from the floor where he’s kneeling, giving himself a slow stroke just to put on a show for her.

Her thighs slide together and she pats the bed beside her. “I would guess that they did, which that is gonna be _awkward_ ,” she says, eyeing him hungrily.  She doesn’t sound like she cares, just yet. On a whim, he flexes his arm and she throws a pillow right at his face, laughing loudly.

He swats away the pillow and scoops up a condom, rolling it onto himself with a shudder as Lucretia snickers from the bed.

“Do you think she actually _cast_ it?” he asks her.

Lucretia murmurs something he can’t decipher—maybe she’s casting the ward herself. He stands and takes a quick step towards the bed. She grabs his hips and twists to her elbows and knees, wrapping her lips around him.

“Shit,” he swears. He’s lucky the shock of Lup’s interruption had taken him far from the brink of orgasm, otherwise, he would have been done for. As it is, he feels himself twitch violently in her mouth and she looks up at him, mouth popping off so she can bury her face against his stomach.

Her mouth moves against his skin, tracing words against his muscles and hair that he doesn’t catch, but he thinks is some iteration of his name. She looks up at him, her chin on his belly, lips curved up into a grin.

“You gonna take care of me?” she whispers. She laughs at him and grins her fond little smile at him when all he can do is gape down at her. “Just fuck me already, Magnus, you can get starry eyed later,” she says, stammering over the last half of the statement, embarrassment finally crashing over her now that they’ve come back to themselves a little.

Warmth crawls up his neck, settles behind his ears and across the plane of his cheeks as he cups her cheek in his palm, thumb tracing her lips. “Yeah,” he croaks, “Yeah, let’s… yeah.”

She grabs his hand and pulls, and he takes his place over her. She spreads against him, hooking her legs behind his knees as he rubs between her thighs to gather up the slick there. He slides easily, between the lubricant on the condom and how wet she is.

She bows up against him, voice strained as he slips in. She’s relaxed from his fingers and the tip of his head, but there’s a slight resistance that’s resolved by her slowly rocking into him as he stays steady for her. He tries not to think about how assured she is in how to move herself, knowing if he thinks about it, he’d lose the composure he’d managed to scrounge up.

(She took the lead so readily and he wants, oh god he wants to keep giving it up, see how far she’d take that; she knows what she wants, did she ever think of him and...?)

Her thighs tremble, her nails press against his skin, and her mouth is slack and open. He rubs his thumbs over her breasts, rocking without drawing back from her.

She shivers and she tightens herself around him as he grinds forward, hips pressing up into him as she crosses her ankles at his knees.

He’s murmuring nonsense against her neck, hands slipping from her breasts to clench into the sheets. She tucks her head against his hair. They pause for a moment like this, her fingers soft and shaking as they rub up his shoulders.

She slips her fingers against his jaw and he leans up to kiss her as he draws his hips back and thrusts into her.

After that, it’s not long at all; it feels like he comes in seconds once he starts fucking her in earnest, wringing out sharp moans and a third orgasm from her that has her curling around him and drawing him so tight all he can do is circle against her.

She lays back against the sheets, hazy eyed and panting as he slips from her and removes the condom, smirking as he ties it off and turns his head to look for her trash bin. The Mage Hand she casts to pluck it from his fingers is simply showing off, but he grins at her anyway.

“I should have said it earlier,” he murmurs, looking at her, sprawled out and sweaty, her thighs still splayed open as she drops her hand from casting position. She’s still flushed and swollen with arousal and he runs a hand against her. Her thighs clamp against his hand and she whines as she shoos his hand away.

He leans forward, resting his fingers instead against her belly, grinning dopily down at her. “But fuck me, you’re _gorgeous_ , Luce,” he rumbles.

She grins at him and cups her hands against his sideburns. “I did,” she says smugly. She laughs, relishing the revelation. “I did fuck you!”

He kisses her, and then rolls over to his side, pulling her with him. She slings her leg over his hip, and Magnus knows with a certainty he can’t describe that this is how it’s supposed to be for them— comfortable and warm and teasing. How he _wants_ it to be. He cups the small of her back and kisses her temple where her hair sticks to her skin with sweat.

“Yep,” he whispers. “And who could have guessed you were pushy in bed, god, Luce.”

“I knew what I wanted,” she murmurs, wrinkling her nose up at him as she sticks her tongue out just a bit.

“My dick!”

“Mmhmm,” she hums happily. “Listen. You wave that thing around _a lot_ and I’ve been in love with you for a while, so... carpe diem. Take the chance.”

He snorts and scoops her closer to him, nuzzling against her hair. “Carpe dick-em.”

“Hooo boy here we go.”

But she laughs and he grins.

In the morning, when  Lup holds her hand up for a high five, Lucretia just grabs her hand and shakes it, laughing hard as Magnus blushes.


End file.
